Sennen Promise
by shitsumon
Summary: YGOHP X-over Harry reads about a meeting between Shaadi and Bill Weasley in Egypt. Also, Ryou is visiting his father in England. Also, the Ankh is on the move. {WIP}
1. Ch 1

Yeah, I know I need to finish my Harry Potter fic, "Star's Fall," but I couldn't resist writing this YGO/HP crossover. And it actually has a general outline. Sort of. Does writing out the basic storyline on an index card within two minutes count as an outline?

**Disclaimer**: I own . . . my shoes, three pairs of wearable jeans, some shirts, two detergent bottles, a jug of bleach, a calculator, a Japanese language textbook . . . you get the idea. There isn't the slightest chance in hell that I could ever own Yugioh or Harry Potter.

Flames are harmful to the environment. Well, to my environment. I'm serious. What?

Please feel free to tell me just how cliché my story is. I like clichés, but I need help finding them. --; I need lots of help. I also enjoy ideas on personality and details. 3 You never know when a tiny, easily overlooked characteristics will totally change interactions between my minions—I mean, my characters.

Oh, and could somebody help me find my samurai kitties? They were here at the beginning of summer . . .

* * *

**Sennen Promise **Chapter 1

* * *

Harry Potter rolled over. He had woken up at around quarter to four in the morning, and just couldn't go back to sleep. Turn. No good, his arm was squished between his body and the wall. On his stomach. Metal coil in the gut, not comfy. A twist to the left easily got him off the metal coil, but wasn't suitable for sleep. Sideways on the bed with head hanging off held potential, but what to do with feet? Maybe if he tried. . .

A quiet two or three taps at the bedroom window caused Harry to peer to the side. To his befuddlement, dawn had already arrived, and his assorted attempts to go back to sleep were for naught. Also, there was an tawny owl on the other side of the window that appeared to be bobbing its head in agitation.

Harry's glasses were resting on Dudley's unused bookcase. It twas just a matter of reaching for them and putting them on. Happily enough, the bookcase was a short distance from the bed, and he groped for the glasses without bothering to move from his latest potential sleeping position. Putting the glasses on also required some manual dexterity, but he managed.

He blinked at the owl. It looked like it was upside down, and an excess of blood was rushing to his head. The owl tapped on the window, clutching the newspaper heldin its talons, and glared at the boy in annoyance. Harry flipped around to right the world, and shook his head to get his bearings.

When he regained his equilibrium, and felt awake enough to cross the distance without falling over, Harry stumbled over to the window to let the owl in. The bird seemed oddly affronted, leaving Harry mildly confused at to why. It had only taken two or three minutes to figure out how to open the window, which wasn't all that bad considering how his tiredness did not combine well with the latch he had to manipulate in order to open the window and let in the owl.

As soon as Harry managed to get newspaper and pay the owl, he jumped in reflex in response to a loud rapping from his door. "Get up." A pause, during which the owlflew out the window and leftthe premises, then, "Get up, you lazy boy!"

Harry blinked drowsily.

The door opened and a skinny blonde woman used her abnormally long neck to stick her head into the room. Wrinkling her nose in disdain, she grumpily inquired, "Have you sent your letter?"

This inspired Harry to reply with a tired "Last night."

"Then why is the window open?"

"Got the newspaper." He almost held the morning issue of the Daily Prophet up for inspection.

"Hurry up and get dressed," she barked, then spun around to do whatever little chores she did during the morning.

Harry replied to her back, "Yes, Aunt Petunia."

He put on his clothes for the day, all of it oversized. Harry still tended to wear old oversized hand-me-downs that were once Dudley's. Really, he wouldn't mind so much if Dudley weren't such a blimp! The pants required a good strong belt to ensure that it didn't automatically hold residence somewhere around his ankles. Even with the belt, Harry retained the habit of pulling them back up if only due to those rare days when he had to do without. He didn't mind the shirts too much, since sometimes it could be useful and even comforting to have T-shirts that went to his knees. They almost reminded him of robes. He just wished that the giant sleeves didn't reach his wrists.

At least he didn't have to wear Dudley's old underwear.

He left the newspaper on the bed since it wasn't going anywhere and he needed to go and see what his aunt wanted.

Upon getting to the bottom of the stairs, Harry had two pieces of toast chucked at him. He blinked at his aunt as he held the two rather bland items. It just didn't seem like the standard morning greeting, not that he'd expected much.

"Eat your breakfast." _Ah, that explains it._

He blinked yet again for good measure, then didas she said.

Aunt Petunia led Harry out the door and down the street, quickly making it apparent what she wanted. Since Dudley was coming home for the summer, more food than usual would soon be leaving the poor overworked refrigerator. For this reason, said refrigerator needed to be stocked. Harry would be needed for this endeavor by being the workhorse and carrying the bags of food, which was completelyunderstandable, since Aunt Petunia was skinny enough thata heavy bag might rip off one of her arms.

They scampered their way through the market and purchased the items she considered important. Harry was certain he would not be permitted any of the ginger snaps.

In the end, he carried four heavy bags, and his aunt carried two light. They trotted back to 4 Privet Drive and made short work of putting the assorted groceries away.

Once his aunt shooed him out of the kitchen, Harry opted to go back upstairs to read his newspaper. On the way, he passed Dudley's bedroom. Harry's cousin was in for a bit of a shock when Smeltings let out since he'd be certain that Harry was up for a repeat of the previous summer. He had no reason to believe otherwise. Instead, he would have the dubious privilege of witnessing his father treat Harry with a grudging sort of respect. Well, sort of.

It was too bad that Dudley had missed Moody's show. It would have been truly educational for him. Really. Uncle Vernon's right eye hadn't stopped twitching sporadically since he had picked up Harry at King's Cross Station. Perhaps Moody had scared him more than intended? One could only hope.

After stocking the assorted groceries into their assigned places within the refrigerator and pantry, Harryclimbed the stairs andentered his roomclosing the door quietly. It would not do to attract attention over something so minor. It was now time to read the paper.

He sat on the bed and started to leaf through the sections. Since the previous summer had provided him with a rather harsh smear campaign, Harry had decided to go through the Daily Prophet with a metaphorical fine-toothed comb. With this level of meticulousness, Harry had discovered four plots against his life, an advertisement for a new statue for the lobby at the Ministry of Magic, and a half page article weighing the virtues of Weasley Wizard Wheezes as opposed to Zonko's Joke Shop.

He should probably check up on his investment. Harry made a mental note to do so.

Oh, and there were articles galore on how afraid people were now that it was common knowledge that Voldemort had returned. The bottom half of the front page was devoted to calming all the terrified readers. Apparently, having a dark lord return from the dead was reason for concern.

The ministry was doing a terrible job of keeping the populace calm.

The top half of the front page had been about a new "Dark Creature Containment Bill" that one of Fudge's lackeys was pushing. Harry avoided reading it, remembering some similar articles he had already come across. Current werewolf legislation always caused him to become angry. He honestly couldn't understand how Lupin could come across as being calm and content all the time. The poor werewolf sure had things difficult in life.

The new bill would probably make life difficult for half giants, too.

Harry skimmed through most of the business section, pausing only to peruse a small article on the Weasley twins. All this publicity was sure to increase business! Heh. He should definitely check up on his investment.

Next was the comics page. Wizarding comics were a touch different from their muggle counterparts. The characters didn't move or anything, but the speech bubbles appeared and filled as you read them, thereby allowing the words to be larger and easier to read with the added benefit of keeping surprises from being obvious. Harry could no longer accidentally read a line before he was ready, which could only be a good thing considering how much suspense could be placed in such innocuous strips.

He spent about ten minutes chuckling as he read such comic strips as "Marvin the Mad Muggle" and "Sally the Sorceress."

Harry moved on to the "Crime and Punishment" section. The first headline was about the Deatheaters who had escaped from Azkaban. There had been numerous sightings, but officials still had yet to capture even one. Harrysnickered when he read that the Minister of Magic had said, "We've apprehended these villains before, and rest assured that we'll catch them again!" Fudge was a hopeless case, and most likely would remain that way. Why was the man still the Minister of Magic when it was well known how incompetent he was?

The conversation that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were holding downstairs halted for a moment. They were still a bit surprised to hear him make any noise, and Harry supposed laughter wasn't something they were accustomed to hearing from him.

He was glad he could laugh, considering the mental connection he couldn't help but make between the Ministry of Magic and his godfather's death. The man had died in the Department of Mysteries with nary a comment from the Ministry of Magic, not even that the escaped convict had even shown his face. Sirius would definitely be missed.

The political cartoon in the editorial section indicated that most of the wizarding world had a great deal of faith in Cornelius Fudge, information that was supported by the published letters from readers of the Daily Prophet. That most likely did not bode well for those working with Dumbledore.

The second page of the social section held a surprise for Harry. The black and white moving picture depicted a dark skinned Middle Easterner in a robe and turban being dragged across a room by a set of aurors, not at all impressive considering how the aurors could be seen arresting people and tracking down criminals virtually throughout Britain's magical community in the Ministry's attempt to save face. The surprise was Bill Weasley standing near the edge of the picture, glaring at the man under the turban. Harry read the article.

* * *

**Killer to be Transferred!**

An unknown presumably Egyptian man was apprehended yesterday for involvement in the murders of three curse breakers for Gringotts. The bodies of Sam Kimchee, Yuuko Garcia, and Matthew McConnolly were each discovered within days of each other last week with their heads bitten off by a large reptile.

The man was discovered attempting to kill off Gringotts Curse-Breaker Bill Weasley in Mr. Weasley's apartment in Cairo with a set of what are assumed to be magical scales. According to Mr. Weasley, the accused man transfigured a chair into a giant crocodile and proceeded to ask a string of questions concerning his self worth. "It was terrifying. I couldn't move or anything. I thought I was going to die!" a dismayed and confused Mr. Weasley informed investigators.

The murder attempt was foiled when a house elf came to empty the trash.

The accused claims to be acting according to the will of the pharaohs. He is currently being sent to England for mental treatment and evaluation at St. Mungo's. While aurors did not harm the accused during apprehension, it is possible that he had been the recipient of some physical or magical malady prior to apprehension that would have caused such unbalanced behavior.

The four deceased curse breakers had worked with Mr. Weasley two weeks ago, locating a major stash of gold and other valuable items in a recently discovered tomb in Egypt. The amount came to an astounding 87,022,000 galleons, the fourth most valuable find this century.

Investigators wonder if the accused was trying to steal the gold for personal use.

The man has a strange magical aura, and according to records has not been to any known school of magic. By all rights, he should not have the necessary training to transfigure a chair into a reptile. An investigation is underway to discover his name. His trial will be held in London so Mr. Weasley can seek justice while receiving comfort from his family.

* * *

Harry blinked. Well. There had been a murder attempt on Bill? He wondered how long it would take Ron to send him a letter. The Weasleys must have been out of their minds with worry.

Looking back at the picture, Harry could just imagine the fuss Mrs. Weasley was making over Bill. And how the twins must be embarrassing him over nearly getting himself killed with a set of scales. The thought brought a smile back to his face, even through his worry.

He paused. How _do_ you kill someone with a set of scales?

A clang at his window caused Harry to look up. Ron's owl, Pig, had arrived and was trying to zoom into the room. Harry smiled again.

* * *

"Yes, my son is coming to visit next week. It'll be the first time I've seen him in almost five months." The man leaned back in his chair, holding a small phonograph of a white haired teenage boy.

"Five months!"

"Don't worry. My Ryou is a good boy and can take care of himself. I just want him to come back to England for his birthday, is all."

"But five months, Mr. Bakura! How could you keep him alone for so long?" The office secretary appeared ready to jump over the desk to strangle the man into owning some common sense.

Mr. Bakura sighed. "My work keeps me away. And it's not like I can bring a high school student along on one of my excavations. He needs to study."

"Hn." She wasn't impressed with his reasoning.

"It'll be good to see him. Good thing his birthday falls during summer break."

"Five months?"

Sigh.

* * *

So how's this for a beginning? And before you ask, none of the cast of Yugioh will be going to Hogwarts. That idea is just a little _too_ cliché, even for _my_ tastes. Can we stay, "Storyline beat to death with a large blunt stick," people?

Chapter last edited December 23, 2004.


	2. Ch 2

It's time for chapter 2!

Sorry for the wait, oh sacred readers.  I had to change states rather abruptly, and then had to get accustomed to classes.  It was only four months!

*dodges assorted trauma-inducing blunt objects*

For those who asked how Shaadi killed those people, please read the manga.  I believe the information you are looking for is in volume 1.  Or maybe 2.  I can't remember.

Yes.  I'm very informative, aren't I?

My samurai kitties came, took one look at my dorm, and left.  T_T

I've chosen to write out Japanese names in the European style.  First names first.  I find this just as annoying as you do.

**Disclaimer**:  I just pawned some of my stuff in order to have enough money for laundry.  You do the math.

And so . . .

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Harry finally managed to get the letter away from Pig after approximately three minutes and sixteen seconds of the owl zooming around his head.  The bird hooted happily from his fist, its head sticking out between his fingers.  Harry opened the letter one-handed.

Hey mate!

How's your summer going?  Hope those muggles are treating you all right.  If they aren't just let me know and I'll tell Dad.  He'll put those lousy muggles straight!

Did you read about that nutcase that tried to off Bill?  No one knows who he is, but he's been using a crocodile to kill people.  Do you reckon he's a parseltongue?  Maybe he's working for Him.  Bill's going to stay here for the trial.  Sorry you can't come over or anything.  Dumbledore's orders.

Dad says Fudge is a major idiot who's putting out really idiotic decrees.  That new law he had put out's going to make life real difficult for Hagrid.

Mom's still a bit put off that you gave Fred and George money for their shop.  They're doing well, and loud noises are still coming from their room.  Actually, they're coming more often.  I'm getting a bloody headache!  And they won't shut up!

Hermione's already finished her homework.  How's it possible?  It's only June!

See you at Hogwarts.

Ron

Harry skimmed through the letter a second time to be sure he got all the information possible out of the letter.  Odd.  Mrs. Weasley didn't seem all that upset before.  Perhaps the twins dropping out of school had something to do with it.

Typical.  Let Hermione out of his sight and she goes and finishes her summer homework.  "We've only been out for a week," he muttered.

What new law?  And why would Hagrid be affected?  Then he remembered the new dark creature containment bill and scowled.

Do crocodiles speak parseltongue?

"Boy!"

Harry put the letter on the floor with the rest.  Both Ron and Hermione had begun their summer with the intention to make sure Harry didn't feel left out of things.  Apparently they didn't like being yelled at.

Pigwidgeon landed on Harry's head.

After shaking the miniscule owl off and placing it into Hedwig's cage, Harry went downstairs to answer his uncle's summons.

"Boy!  You better have sent your letter." Uncle Vernon grumbled.

Harry nodded stiffly and sat at the table.

The Dursleys were going to the train station that day.  Uncle Vernon may have been terrified by Moody's show the previous week, but he hadn't stopped commenting on how aggravating a boy Harry was in comparison to Dudley.  He consoled himself with the idea that he would have the house to himself after lunch.

"Hmph.  At least we won't have to drive as far today, Petunia."  Vernon said halfheartedly over his breakfast, and then glared at the newspaper in his hands.  "Damn Americans are at it again."

"That's nice, dear."  Petunia seemed a bit busy staring out the window at the mailman.  For some odd reason, he appeared to be handing a stack of letters over to Mrs. Next Door, as befit his job description.

Harry gave a small sigh and prayed that noon would come soon.

"What was that, boy?"  Vernon glared at Harry and returned to his paper.

Harry prayed that noon would come very soon.  The Dursleys were planning on leaving directly after eating in order to pick up Dudley from the station two towns over.  Harry would have the house to himself.  Any later than that and he was sure he would have a headache.

If Dudley could arrive at a much closer train station than King's Cross, then why couldn't Hogwarts do the same?  Going all the way to London had to be a hassle for outlying families like the Finnegans, who resided somewhere in Northern Ireland.  If the Knight Bus could do it, then why couldn't the train?

Of course, a train is a lot larger than a bus.

However, the arrival of noon would just cause Dudley to come home even sooner than he would otherwise.  Harry sighed again.  You can't win them all.

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/Yami!  We're trying to pack!  Not play with sharp objects!/

A hum and giggle.

Sigh.  Ryou Bakura had a problem that evening, and it was giving him a headache.  It just so happened that said problem could have been his clone.  Well, if said clone wasn't wearing a deranged grin and inhabiting his body.  /Yami,/ Ryou cautioned.

Yami Bakura stopped grinning.  Ryou gave his darkness a mental nudge.  His yami growled and gave up control of the body.

/Thank you./

A grumble in his head was all the response Ryou got.

Ryou put the two knives back in the drawer.  Then he took them out and washed them.  It was only when he was putting the knives away for the second time that he noticed something odd.

/Yami?/

//Hmm?//

/Why aren't we wearing pants?/

A mental door slammed shut.

. . . At least he would see his father soon.

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Harry finished lunch with the Dursleys and returned to his room.  There was a tangible sense of relief about him as the sound of a car engine rumbled from the driveway.  He sat on the bed, struggling to find the perfect spot.  On the edge.  A spring poked the inside of his knee.  Lying down.  He felt sleepy.  He continued to flop around for a minute.  It was only when he finally found a comfortable position that he realized something.

The _Quibbler_ was four feet away.

Harry pondered his options.  He could stay as he was and be bored, or he could move from his comfortable position in order to gain some entertainment.  A difficult decision.  After about twenty minutes, Harry finally reached a decision to reach for the magazine.  When he returned to lie back down, he was disappointed to find that the comfortable spot had moved as well.

"Oh, bother."  Harry chose to sit on the bed with his back against the wall rather than try again.  He pulled at the shirt he was wearing so that it wouldn't slip off of one shoulder.  Dudley really was too big for his own good, even if he _was_ on the school boxing team.

He opened the magazine, determined to enjoy his Dursley-free hours.  The first story was on shampoo.  Apparently shampoos were altering the minds of random witches and wizards, turning them into longhaired fiends that moan and shout "yes!" at random places in random intervals.

That sounded an awful lot like that series of commercials from that muggle shampoo brand . . .

Harry blinked when he got to the next article.  It was on the short side, but made him smile.  The odd looking drawing to the left of the article helped arouse his amusement.  It was a drawn image of an oversized ear atop a kimono-clad woman's body.

The Search for the Mimi-Onna 

We are proud to inform our readers of an upcoming article!  Next week the owner of the _Quibbler, _Mr. Artemius Lovegood, and his daughter, Luna, is going on an excursion to Japan to locate the legendary mimi-onna.

 "So Luna's going to Japan," Harry pondered out loud.  Then he shrugged and went back to the magazine.  Harry paused after he turned to the next page.  The twins advertised their business in the _Quibbler_?  Since when?

A tapping at the window caused him to look up.  "Hedwig!"  Harry got up yet again to let the snowy owl in.  Tied to her leg was a package with his name on it.  "Thanks, girl."  

The owl tilted her head to the side in order to study the boy.  After five seconds or so, Harry guessed he passed muster since she entered the room.

The owl fluttered onto her cage and stuck out her foot.  Upon removing the parcel from said foot, Harry tore off the brown paper packaging discovering a small box and a letter.  The letter was from Remus, saying that Harry's letter to the Order had arrived safely, and that the box contained owl treats for Hedwig.

Harry gave a couple of treats to the owl, who ate them and promptly fell asleep after giving two hoots to Pig, who was producing odd tweeting noises in its sleep.

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"Moshi moshi."

"Hello, Yuugi."

"Ryou!"

"I'm calling to inform you that I'm headed off to England in the morning."

"Oh, that's right!  I hope you have a good trip."  One could hear the happy smile the boy was wearing.  "Enjoy yourself!"

"Umm . . . It's not just that.  I want to make sure my yami doesn't have anything of yours before we leave."

"I'll go check."

"Please do."  Sigh.  /Shut up, Yami./

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Thank you!  Thank you!  *big grin*

By the way, the mimi-onna are an actual part of Japanese mythology.  Go figure.

And special thanks to my reviewers: **neosun7**;** komodo dragon**;** TeeDee**;** lily22**;** taunting-elf**;** Sarah**;** TsukiTenshiP**;** KawaiiWhiteWolf**;** Indigo Tantarian**;** Bakura's-Gurl**;** BonnieGinger4ever**;** Bloodfang**;** mika**;** crazy man**;** Tomgirl27**

**SAME BAKA**;** SAME MORON**;** SAME WIERDO**;** SAME FREAK**----I take it you want me to continue?

I have to use school computers, since I don't have one of my own.  Now if only they actually worked . . . 

When it's midnight in London, it is 9:00 a.m. in Tokyo, a nine-hour difference.

On a side note, I haven't decided on whether or not this fic will contain slash of any kind.  I have little confidence in my ability to write that sort of thing.  Perhaps I need to date more.

**_"The base of optimism is sheer terror."  Oscar Wilde_**


	3. Ch 3

Hello, my readers!  This is chapter three!

Don't kill me!  I have an excuse for taking so long.  You see . . .

Maybe I don't have an excuse . . .

I am strange.  Do not argue this.

Please send info on personality quirks and clichés.  I like both in my characters. ^_^

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own either Yuugioh or Harry Potter.  If I did, I'd probably have enough money to own a computer.

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/Yami!/ A pause.  /Yami!  Don't kill people standing in line!/

//The wench is taking too long!//

/Yeah, but . . . / Ryou searched for a reason not to kill the people in front of him.  /We're standing in front of other people, and they haven't tried to kill us, yet!/

//Yet.//

/Umm./ Ryou thought fast.  He then realized that this topic was a lost cause.  /Could you please return to your soulroom?  People are starting to stare.  And I have to convince the people up there that our Ring is an acceptable item to bring on a flight./

//No one touches the Ring!//

A pause.  /Please?/

The strange white haired boy grimaced, and then went back to glaring.  The woman in front of him scurried out of line.  //See?  We'll get out of this damn line faster if--//

/Yami!/

// . . . fine.//

Suddenly, the scowling boy seemed gentler, if a bit frazzled.  He looked around very quickly, as if he was afraid of being caught doing something he shouldn't have been doing.  Most of the people around him noticed.  He gave a nervous laugh.

/Now everyone's staring at me./

A mental door firmly closed.

Ryou gave another nervous laugh.  He played with the dangly parts of his ring while waiting in line to get through the metal detector.  Maybe they'd accept the ring as an unusual piece of jewelry.  Yami didn't pack any unsavory items, did he?

/Yami?/ Ryou began, /Did you bring anything you weren't supposed to?/

A snore was his answer.

Ryou stood up straight and prayed there weren't any weapons on his person.  At least Yami wasn't commenting anymore on how humans were never meant to fly.  Ryou had never considered the idea that his darkness was afraid of heights.

To bad Yuugi wasn't permitted past the checkpoints.  Having someone to talk to would have been nice.

The people standing around the white haired boy shuddered as a dark aura filled the terminal.

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"How're you holding up, Bill?"

"Been better.  So, Dad . . ."

Mr. Weasley looked over the case report at his son.

". . . I don't suppose there's any way to save me from Mum?"

Mr. Weasley gave his son a Look.  "You're on your own, there."

The conversation lagged.

A door slammed open, and both men looked over to see what the commotion was.

"Bill!  How could you?  I was worried sick!"  Mrs. Weasley stomped over to her husband and eldest son.  "We couldn't get a hold of you, and your employer wouldn't tell us where you were, and . . ." She had to stop in order to breathe.  A few of the more intelligent spectators backed away and left the premises.

Bill winced, then tried to explain, "Mum, I was just out on a quick research expedition.  It wasn't going to last long at all."

"That's no excuse!  You got a desk job for a reason!  How could you be so stupid?  I raised you better than this!  You didn't tell anyone where you were going!  Not even Fleur!"

Bill flushed and glanced beseechingly at his father.  Mr. Weasley smiled apologetically and then sided with his wife.  "Bill, you really should have left a message."

"Exactly!  How could you do this to us?  You nearly got yourself killed!"  Her hair seemed to be poofing out more with each yelled sentence.

People were staring.

At this point, he would have preferred a howler.

Bill barely stopped himself from glaring at his father.  It would not do to give his mother something else to go on a tirade on.

Mr. Weasley kept his peace.  Molly was not someone you crossed lightly, and he had no desire to sleep on the couch that night.  It didn't look like she was going to calm down anytime soon.

He almost felt sympathy for his son.

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"What are you going to do today, Yuugi?"

"I'll probably spend time with Jounouchi."

"Is that so?  I thought you were spending a lot of time with that Bakura boy these days."  Mr. Mouto, affectionately referred to as 'Grandpa' by Yuugi's friends, scooted a box across the counter.  It was finally time to check back stock.

Something didn't quite add up with the inventory list.  Grandpa studied the list, then the collection of boxes before him.  Maybe they were stored in the wrong stack.

"Hmm?"  Yuugi looked up from the shelf he was stocking.  "Oh, Ryou's on a plane to England by now.  He's supposed to spend his birthday with his father."

"Is that so?"

"Yep.  I went with him to the airport this morning, but they wouldn't let me go very far.  I had to leave him in line to get to the metal detector."  And hopefully no one would touch the Ring.

"That's nice.  Didn't we have a stack of jigsaw puzzles?"

"Maybe.  I'll go check."

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A strange looking man, obviously a foreigner, struggled in his seat.  Chains were binding him to an extremely uncomfortable looking chair.  He didn't appear to be very happy with his surroundings, either.  His pupil-less eyes were bloodshot, and he appeared to be weary.

Interrogation cells would do that to a man.

"Look you!  Tell me right now why I shouldn't send you to the dementors!"

The man stayed silent.

"Start talking right now!"

The prisoner's eyes widened.

The large key shaped pendant on a cord around the man's neck started to glow.  Slowly, the interrogator's eyes lost their shine.  He released the foreigner from his bindings and led him out of the cell.

The foreign man strode calmly and confidently down the hall, obviously looking for an exit.  However, he strode right into a group of aurors on their way home.  The interrogator tried to stop them, but the aurors stupefied both.  The interrogator dropped to the ground, bringing the auror he was strangling down with him.

A female auror glanced at the gold object hanging from the foreigner's neck.  "Hey!  Check this out!"

"Tonks!  I needed that ear."

"Stop whining.  Look at this."

One of the male aurors bent down to study the object.  A flash of light seemed to hit the object, but Tonks put it up to flickering torches.  The male auror reached for the cord around the foreign man's neck.

"Hey!  What are you doing?"

The man paused.  "This looks like an ancient Egyptian artifact.  I'll just take this down to the lab.  I want to make sure it's not putting out any harmful magic."

Tonks wore a dubious expression, but turned her attention to the foreigner and interrogator.  "Get those two to the infirmary.  Any ideas why Tranfield would turn on us like that?"

On of the other aurors checked Shaadi's pulse, then turned to Tranfield.

They were off the clock!  Tonks was upset, since she wouldn't be paid for capturing the escapee.  She probably wouldn't even get the bonus for working overtime, either.

The male auror left, presumably to turn in the golden artifact in his hand.  As soon as he turned the corner, he slipped the cord around his neck.  No one noticed how his eyes briefly turned red as he stuffed the Ankh under his robes.

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"Jenny, would you please move this appointment for next week?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Bakura."  She blinked.  "Is there any particular reason, sir?"

"It conflicts with a previous commitment.  My son is coming to visit."

"That's wonderful!  What's he like?"

"He's a quiet little thing.  I figure this will be a good treat for his birthday."

"He has a birthday coming up?"

"Yes.  I'm just glad he won't be missing any school this year."

"Where's he coming in from?"

"Japan."

"Oh.  That's a long flight."

"I hope he doesn't become too bored on the flight.  Twelve hours is a long time."

"Who's he coming with?"

"Oh, he's flying alone."

"By himself?"

"Yes.  Why?"

"Mr. Bakura!"

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And special thanks to my reviewers!

**Tomgirl27**:  The "weird awards," eh?  Well, you have me beat. ^_^

**komodo dragon**: Here you go.

**simpleinsanity**: There is a reason for all the Harry focus, but here's a bit more Yuugi-universe for you.  Harry didn't even show up once this chapter.

**Bakura's-Gurl**:  Do you need any water?  All that screaming can't be good for your throat. ^_^

Yes.  My chapters are on the short side.  Go figure.

The Scales are in storage.  The aurors let Shaadi keep his Ankh, which was considered to be merely a tacky necklace with no immediately identifiable magic, but not the Scales.  After all, the Scales are considered a murder weapon.


	4. Ch 4

I'm ba~ack! *snicker*

For an explanation concerning the Ankh and Scales, please look at reviewer response I've given to Tomgirl27.

I am cold.  I hate being cold.  And I have to use the public library to type this.  But at least this chapter is longer than the previous three.  And I've been revising my previous chapters.  Must be all that spare time I have . . .

I am mentally disturbed.  Because I said so.  So there.

**Disclaimer**: I don't even own a bag of pretzels.  My samurai kitties stole them.  Meanieheads.

Wheeeeeeee!

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Ryou breathed a sigh of relief.  He had managed to get past security and onto the plane without any major mishaps.  The worst his yami had done was take over long enough to glare at the pilot.  Of course, the pilot then decided to duck behind the first row of seats.  Not bad, considering.

Ryou was extremely grateful he had forced his darkness back when after he had to take off the Ring in order to get through the metal detectors.  A massacre in an airport probably would not have gone over very well.

//Can I--//

/No!/

// . . . Just one?//

/Yami!  No!/

//But that mortal--//

/Yami!  What have I said about killing mortals?/  Not that he, himself, wasn't a mortal.

//That mortal was being insubordinate.//  This was stated as though it were a perfect reason for murder.

/ . . . /

//Hn.  Fine.// Upon grumping, Ryou's yami trudged to his soulroom. 

Now to find his seat . . .

6-D is a window seat on the left, right?  No, wait.  This is a larger plane with three seats on either side of the aisle.  So 6-D would be in the sixth row down on the left, right next to the aisle.  Right?

At least he wouldn't have to climb over anyone to get to his seat.

"Hurry up."

"Huh?"

A glare, but nowhere near as effective as his yami's, or Yuugi's yami. The Asian businessman seemed to be trying out Albert Einstein's hairstyle.  Odd.  "You heard me, brat." He snapped.

Blink.  Was that a threat?  No, it couldn't be.

The businessman seemed to be in a hurry to get past the fifth row of seats.  Ryou hastily slipped into his row with his carry on bag still in his hand.  The businessman strode on through the narrow aisle to the seventh row, put his carry on bag in the overhead compartment, and sat down in seat 7-D.

So the anger display was just to get past a single row?

Okay.

Ryou stood hunched over, trying not to bang his head while waiting for a chance to slip out of the row of seats.  He still had to put his bag in the overhead compartment.

Now if only the flow of humans would slow down enough for him to put up his bag.

The businessman buckled himself in, and then started to read a paperback novel.

Isn't that a romance novel?  Ryou blinked in surprise.

The businessman seemed to feel Ryou's stare.  He looked straight at the teen, glared some more, and proclaimed, "Beat it."

Ryou honestly expected his darkness to start making crude comments concerning the future of the businessman's soul, but all remained quiet.  The voice in his head was not talking.  At all.  Why wasn't the voice in his head talking?  He should be listening to mutterings about murders and maiming.  Or at least on how humans were not meant to fly.  How could things be quiet in his head?

"I said beat it!  Get lost!"

A mental snore.  The thieving yami had decided it was nap time.  Again.

That works.

Now why did his yami get to sleep and he didn't?  It was only about ten after nine in the morning!

Ryou turned to his right and faced the crowd in the aisle.

"Um, excuse me?  I need to put my bag up."  Now if only everyone else would stop ignoring him.  "I'll be quick about it."  The line kept going.  Sigh.

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Harry finished his essay on raising venomous tentaculai with a small flourish, and set it aside.  Writing with quill and ink had some serious drawbacks as compared to writing with a ballpoint pen.  The first being the amount of time it took the ink to dry.  During his first year at Hogwarts, Harry had gone to all of his classes with the side of his hand smeared with ink.

Sometimes he still did.  At least he had figured out how to write evenly with a quill.

There was no ink on his hand this time.

He jotted down 'quill sharpener' on his Diagon Alley shopping list.  He thought a knife would do the trick (it's what he had used in previous years) but he wished to be sure.  Quills became dull with use, much like a muggle pencil, and a dull quill did not apply ink evenly over his parchment.  Professors Snape and McGonnigal had mentioned this fact several times in red ink on his returned homework assignments.

Another item on the list he had started while the Dursleys had gone to pick up Dudley was a new cage for Hedwig.  Her old one was a bit bent up.  Harry figured that would be a nice thing to do for his owl.

Currently, said owl was out.  Most likely, she was out hunting rodents for him to 'ooh' and 'aw' at when she came home.  She was an excellent hunter.

He considered reading that bit of legislation in the Daily Prophet.  A new "Dark Creature Containment Bill" would probably be important.  However, reading it would most likely only serve to make him angry, regardless of which 'dark creature' it contained

Civil rights are a must.  Especially for werewolves and half giants.  But not so much for house elves.

Harry glanced at the clock on the rickety table next to his bed.  12:43.

He would admire Hedwig's hunting prowess in the morning.

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A man strode through the empty streets confidently, but while giving off a distinctly lost aura.  The man was oddly dressed for London at any time of day, garbed in what seemed to be a dark wine red dress or bathrobe.

The man paused in the middle of an intersection.  He wore what appeared to be an oversized key on a cord around his neck.  He turned his head, seemingly searching for something.  He turned right, got onto the sidewalk, and strode forward.

He was a man on a mission.

His eyes were red.  But no one saw.

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Bill sighed as he sat at the table.  It was far too early to be awake.  The sun was barely up.

"Mum got to you, huh?"  Ron gave a sympathetic half-smirk before looking expectantly towards the kitchen.  His hair rivaled his friend Harry's in messiness.  He must have just rolled out of bed.

Bill grunted in reply.

"Bill Weasley!  If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times!  Speak coherently!  You hear me!"

Bill ducked his head down in response to his mother's voice from the kitchen.

"Well?!"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Don't sound so sulky!"

The twins snickered.  Of course, it might have been because of the designs for a new product that they had flattened out before them.  Business was booming.  Harry must be thrilled.

Their establishment had experienced a marvelous start, due to Hogwarts students coming in for purchases.  Apparently, having Umbridge for a Defense professor had a positive value after all.  Now if only their mother would allow them to move out . . .

Mr. Weasley exited the living room.  "Well, Tonks says that Tranfield is being detained for further questioning.  No one even suspected he would ever turn on the ministry.  He was always so straight laced . . ."

Mrs. Weasley darted out of the kitchen in time to spot Ron giving Bill a side-glance. "Ronnikins, here.  Let me get that for you."  She proceeded to clean a nonexistent smudge of dirt from the boy's nose while giving Bill a stern glare.

Bill gave his mother a weak smile.

"Now, make sure you stay clean."

"Yes, Mum."

"Arthur, did Nymphadora have anything to say about the investigation?" Mrs. Weasley sighed, "I don't like that man being outside of Azkaban like this.  What if he tries to escape again?"

"Tonks says everything's all right now that they have him in custody.  He isn't really much of a threat now if he's locked in a heavily warded cell, Molly.  Tranfield is the one who really worries me."  He stared into the empty space above the table.  "No one knows if he was under a compulsion spell, or if he's actually turned on the Ministry.  And if an Interrogator can turn, who else has?"

The twins set off one of their newest inventions.

"Fred!  George!  Not at the table!"

Everyone relaxed a bit at the change of topic, and Arthur watched his wife bustle into the kitchen.  He looked at the pair of pranksters.  "Boys, put those away.  You won't get anything for them if you use them all on us."

Mrs. Weasley came in from the kitchen with platters of her delicious yet fattening homemade food floating behind her.  "You had all best be hungry."

Ron's stomach gurgled in response, earning a halfheartedly muffled snort from Ginny.  He gave a quick hurt look to his little sister before returning his gaze to his breakfast.

The family tucked in.

The twins and their father conversed over market stability in the gag gift industry.  Ron and Ginny could be heard discussing Portugal's odds of winning against Peru in the upcoming Quidditch World Cup.  Bill was holding a staring contest with his mother.

Bill was becoming fairly nervous.  Then she spoke.

"Now, dear, about your hair." Mrs. Weasley caressed her wand lovingly.

"No!"

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Somehow or other, I got reviews.  Don't ask how.

**komodo dragon**:  I got baklava! Neener neener neeeeeeener! Ack!  Samurai kitties are not supposed to attack their mistress!  It's mine!  *glares at samurai kitties* Oh, the usual . . . *evil grin*  And thanks for the baklava.  ^_^

**Tomgirl27**: The Ankh (key) can see into people's souls, and can even alter their soulrooms (i.e.: alter personalities).  The only way to reverse this is for the victim to touch the Ankh.  The Scales weigh the value of a soul.  If a soul weighs more than a feather (by means of heavy feelings, like hate and greed) a giant crocodile shows up and eats the body of the person whose soul is being weighed.  This is why everyone should put their soul on a diet.

**simpleinsanity**: You're welcome.

**Maruken**: Bakura wasn't wearing pants because . . . because . . . ummm . . . I don't know.  You'd better ask his Yami.  Who knows how that guy's mind works. *shudder*

**lily22**: Yo!  Keeling over is awkward.  And sometimes messy.  Try to avoid it when you can.  All those characters are needed in order for events to be put in perspective.  A lot of things will be going on at once in this story.  That's one of the main reasons for all of those pesky short scenes.

**Curtis Zidane Ziraa**: Voldie has yet to make an appearance.  And the reason for the Ankh leaving Shaadi . . . will be revealed in a few chapters.  Well, unless I decide to get really longwinded.  Both ways work, I guess . . .

**Yami-Bakura's-little-thief**:  You're a thief?  Your name says you're one. *suspicious side-glance* Brain stress is bad for your health. =P  Nah . . . no knives for Yami Bakura, since that would stop Ryou from getting to England, and thusly bring my plot down to a snail's pace.  Then the story would never end.  The main reason he's going to England is to get the pre-story jabber out of the way.  As it is, the first two and a half chapters were originally supposed to be just one chapter.  -_-"

I've gotten longwinded, haven't I? *sobs*


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